Touch Me
by snapeslittleblackbuttons
Summary: Theo finds that Daphne's touch has healed him from years of loss and brings him the comfort he longs for. But what is the price he must pay to keep her? And if he decides the price is too high, is he willing to condemn the woman he loves to a fate that even he can no longer bear? Written for the Slytherin Cabal's 2017 Death by Quill, Round Two "Temptation". First Place. Rated M.


Rumor held that the brand could not be forced, otherwise the recipient would die. So, he would continue to hold out until they tried, or killed him outright, whichever came first.

Because he had promised.

o0o0o0o

"No."

"No?" His father cocked an eyebrow, his lips thinned nearly to white.

"No, _sir_."

It was the same conversation they always had.

"You will comply with my wishes."

There was no question, no inquiry.

"I will not. _Sir_."

Andre Nott turned away from his son and approached the fireplace, clasping his hands behind his back.

And although he had not been dismissed, Theo turned on his heel and fled the room.

o0o0o0o

"Hey, Draco."

"Hey."

Theo sat down across from his housemate and reached for the carafe of pumpkin juice. The two settled into a comfortable silence punctuated only by the occasional clink of a fork or knife against crockery.

After a few minutes of attempting to fill his hollow stomach, Theo leaned across the table. "Listen," he said quietly, "I want to ask Daphne to Hogsmeade next weekend. Would you guys double?"

Draco eyed him for a moment without responding.

"Sure," he said finally.

"Thanks."

"So what's up with you guys?"

"Nothing yet."

Draco grunted, but made no other comment.

"It's just…I'm running out of time. And I like her. You're lucky. If I don't do something soon…" Theo took a long swallow of juice and let his sentence die in the air between them.

" _I'm_ lucky?"

"Yeah."

"You think so?"

"Astoria's great. Besides, who else is there? Parkinson? No, thanks."

"She's an awesome fuck," Draco said, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Yeah, but I want someone that hasn't shagged the entire school."

"Fair enough."

"You know no one arranged it for me. If I don't secure it myself now—"

"But you can't just—"

"Who are you, my father?" Theo spat, pushing away from the table and standing.

"Come on, Theo. I only meant—"

"Never mind," he said, hoisting his rucksack onto his shoulder with a bit more force than necessary, and taking his leave even before his stew had gotten cold.

o0o0o0o

The next morning, Theo nodded at Draco before dropping down on the wooden bench across from his fellow Slytherin. "Hey."

"Theo," Draco said in greeting.

"About yesterday—"

"Forget it." Draco glanced up through the fringe that had fallen across his eyes, his fork poised to spear some scrambled eggs. "Besides, here they come."

A pack of girls strode to the table amidst a cloud of whispers and laughter.

"Hey, guys. Hey, Daphne," Theo said.

Parkinson raised an eyebrow and playfully nudged her roommate.

"Hey, Theo," Daphne replied and sat down next to him.

As he reached for the tea, Daphne's hand slid against his. They both froze.

A jolt reverberated within him, echoing, sifting through the rubble of his past. How long had it been since someone had touched him, outside of an occasional, impersonal handshake during introductions? How long since a _woman_ had brushed his skin?

Gods, he'd forgotten what it felt like.

After the loss of his mother when he was five, he'd never been held, never been hugged, never been comforted by a parent's touch. After her death, his father—the ever-taciturn bastard that he was—became so withdrawn and aloof that young Theo fancied his father was actually King Midas.

But just now, Daphne Greengrass had touched him.

Inadvertently, sure. But—

He cleared his throat to cover a deluge of emotion that threatened to reveal itself.

"Allow me," Theo said, filling her mug.

"So, Daphne," he continued, swallowing the last of his hesitation, "are you planning to go to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

"I hadn't thought about it yet."

"Would you like to come with me? I thought we might double with Draco and Astoria."

Her eyes—a colour somewhere between brown and green—widened slightly. _Hazel_ , he thought. Why had he never noticed them before?

"I…I'd like that."

"Great."

Theo returned to his breakfast and tried his best not to smile too widely.

o0o0o0o

The air of The Three Broomsticks had been sweetened by Butterbeer and warmed by the press of students into every available space. Theo, Draco, and the girls were parked in a cramped booth, several Butterbeers in.

"You did _not_ ," Daphne said, giggling and turning to Theo.

"He absolutely did," Draco said. "He walked right up to my aunt in the middle of the ballroom and bellowed, 'Your hair looks like Chizpurfles nest in it.'"

"Sweet Circe! What did she do?" Daphne asked, her eyes wide.

"She leaned down, looked him straight in the eye, and whispered, 'Wanna see me eat one, kid?'"

Daphne's face lit with laughter, her eyes turning a bluish-green.

Theo chuckled and took a swallow of his Butterbeer; Draco snaked his arm around Astoria as she readjusted in her seat, patted her lips with a napkin, and smiled delicately.

The afternoon had gone much better than he could have anticipated. Daphne was warm, sweet, and playful, and, he suspected, kind. Sure, according to tradition, she might be nearly the only acceptable choice, but she was far more than simply adequate.

When she laughed, Daphne Greengrass was actually quite pretty.

o0o0o0o

 _Walk around the lake tonight?_

Theo had pushed the parchment into Daphne's hand before Transfiguration started; as she was packing her bag at the end of class, she met his eyes and nodded.

Just before 7 p.m., Theo left the dorms. When he reached the lonely courtyard, he dragged his hand through his hair, abruptly realizing his hands were sweaty. He stuffed them in his trouser pockets and gave in to the desire to pace.

A moment later, she appeared at the step, gifting him a tentative smile.

"Shall we?" he managed, trying to smile back through his nerves.

The evening was crisp and dry. As they gained the dirt path, Theo reached for Daphne's hand. As she threaded her fingers with his, he realized just how quickly he could get accustomed to the feel of her at his side.

o0o0o0o

After seeing Daphne to the door of the girls' dorm, Theo settled into a couch across from Draco in the common room to begin his Arithmancy essay.

"I'm glad you're with Daphne," Draco said. "You deserve a pure-blood."

"You know I don't believe in that shite," Theo said.

"And you know I do."

"It doesn't matter."

Draco's eyes flicked to his left arm…and a memory surfaced, of one the last conversations he had with his mother:

" _I want you to remember something, Theo. Something very important." Thora Nott leaned down to his eye level and whispered with uncharacteristic seriousness. "You must never let anyone mark the inside of your left arm. Promise me, Theo."_

" _I promise, Mum," he said as earnestly as a five year old could._

Draco's reply interrupted his thoughts. "What you believe may not matter now," he said smugly. "But it will."

o0o0o0o

As the weeks passed, Theo found he had a need to be in physical contact with Daphne all the time—and she seemed to share it. There was rarely a moment when their fingers weren't tightly laced, or their feet weren't entwined under a classroom table, or their thighs weren't pressed against each other's as they sat side by side.

During the long nights without her, he felt the weight of her absence profoundly, knowing that if she were there in the room with him, he would line her body with his own and sleep the sleep of the most contented wizard on earth.

But that would have to wait until Hogwarts was a memory.

This particular evening, as he lounged on the sofa with his witch tucked in his arms, Theo could almost forget that they would soon be parting ways for the remainder of the night. Right now, Theo was content.

Daphne broke another breathless kiss and smiled.

"I wonder how many times we've done that?" Theo mused, stroking her back.

"Get a room," Zabini said, rolling his eyes.

"That would be your room, Zabini. You offering?"

His housemate snorted and returned to the textbook in his lap.

o0o0o0o

 **A Week Later**

"Where is everybody?" Daphne asked.

"Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle are flying," Theo said. "And Zabini owes me."

"You kicked Blaise out?"

"Like I said, Zabini owes me."

Theo slid down next to her on his four poster.

"I love the way your skin feels." He ghosted a touch down her neck and began to open the buttons of her blouse. "It's impossible to describe. It's so soft. I love touching it."

Daphne laughed softly, her hazel eyes alight. "And I love the way you touch me." She tugged on his shirt. "Come closer."

Her unbuttoned blouse slid off her shoulders. He dragged his fingers down her back, splaying them and pushing hard into her flesh. She sighed. He flipped his hand over and dragged his fingernails upward, caressing her skin lightly. She shivered and twisted her fingers in his hair, pulling tight and drawing him deeper into their kiss.

"Theo," she panted in a voice as impossibly soft as her skin, "let's."

He answered by warding the door.

And, moments later, as he pushed his way into the place where no one else had ever been, and the sensation of the warm, soft walls surrounded him, all he could think was: _if I can only touch her here every day for the rest of my life._

o0o0o0o

"Can I ask you something? Promise you won't get mad?"

The spring breeze whispered around them as they strolled their favorite path around the lake. Theo pressed his fingers firmly into the back of Daphne's hand, trying to steady himself.

"Promise," she said, looking at him quizzically.

"Why didn't your parents arrange for you like they did for Astoria?"

Daphne returned her gaze to her steps in front of her, and smiled softly.

"They did, actually. A German wizard, much older than we are. The agreement was made when I was born, but when I turned eleven, he requested for it to be nullified. At the time, my parents were in the final negotiations for Astoria with the Malfoys—which took years to finalize—and they agreed to the nullification. I think my arrangement was just left undone."

"Oh." It was all he could think of to say.

"I think my parents were quite worn down in the negotiations for Astoria." She huffed a small laugh. "I'm grateful for it now, of course."

For the next few minutes, they walked along in silence, hand in hand.

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had time to consider all the implications of what he was saying. "Bond with me. Just an avowal until we get your parents' approval for a binding vow."

"Theo…"

"I want you, Daphne. I want to—"

She brushed her finger against his lips to stop him from speaking.

"I do avow," she whispered.

"I do avow," he answered, and as the magic rippled around them, his heart felt full for the first time since he was a child.

o0o0o0o

Theo was engrossed in the instructions for the Elixir to Induce Euphoria when a sharp knock on the Potions classroom door interrupted his thoughts.

"Deputy Headmaster," Snape intoned languidly from behind his desk.

"Excuse me, Professor. I'm here to collect Miss Greengrass for a moment."

After a glance in Theo's direction, Daphne cast a stasis on her cauldron and disappeared with McGonagall. As Theo watched the door close, his knife slipped, slicing his finger, sending blood all over the Shrivelfig cuttings.

"Shite," he muttered.

"Language, Mr Nott. Five points from Slytherin," Snape said in a bored voice, his attention never leaving the parchment on his desk.

 _Merlin, where did she go?_

An hour later, he was still wondering where she had gone.

All there was left to do was to stir the potion six times anti-clockwise.

The classroom door swung open: Daphne was back, visibly trembling, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She was pale.

"Miss Greengrass, see me tomorrow to schedule your make-up work."

Daphne nodded at Snape, collected her belongings, and left without a backward glance.

 _What the hell?_

The glass stirring rod slipped out of Theo's hand. "Fuck."

"Mr Nott." Snape rose from behind his desk and strolled across the room. "Your language seems to have devolved since the beginning of class. Attempt to control yourself or you will find yourself in detention with me instead of spending the evening making up for the loss of an hour in Miss Greengrass's presence."

"Yes, sir," he mumbled, returning his attention to his cauldron.

0o0o0

Neither Daphne nor Pansy showed for dinner. Theo spent the time pushing the food around on his plate and glancing down the aisle.

As dessert was served, Pansy rushed in and sat down across from Theo.

"Where's Daphne? What's going on?"

A look flashed across her features that he couldn't initially decipher.

"You should ask your father that."

"My father?"

It was then that Theo figured out what he'd seen in her eyes: pity.

o0o0o0o

Suddenly, Daphne was painfully absent from…everywhere. She avoided Theo entirely; she slipped out early from classes, and went missing from meals, the library, and the common room.

He felt like he was collapsing, withering without her touch.

Desiccating to the point where he was unable to function.

And all he wanted, for now, was just to talk to her _._

0o0o0o0

"Be quick. I have important matters to attend."

"What have you done to Daphne Greengrass? _Sir_."

From behind his mahogany desk, Andre Nott gifted him an icy smile; he didn't deny the accusation that he had, indeed, done _something_.

His father rose and strolled to the window.

"Take the Mark and you can have her."

Theo felt the prickle of blood as it drained from his face. "Excuse me?"

Silence.

Theo amended his last question.

"Excuse me, _sir_?"

"Take the Mark and you can have her," the older Nott repeated, rounding on him. "Otherwise, you will never touch her again."

"She would never ask that of me, sir," Theo managed, after a moment of recovery.

"She is not asking. Nor am I."

"It's not your decision to make...sir."

"Is that what you believe?"

"I—"

"Regardless, I didn't make the decision." Andre Nott sneered. "The Dark Lord did."

o0o0o0o

"Parkinson."

His housemate looked up at Theo from the Charms textbook open on her lap.

"Pansy," he amended, more gently. "Will you bring Daphne to my room? I need…I need to see her." He crouched down on his heels in front of her. "The rest of the guys are out for a while. Please?"

Nearly two hours later, a knock on the door to the boys' dorm startled him awake. He opened it to find Parkinson, and several feet behind her in the hall, a shaking and wide-eyed Daphne.

"She says she'll come in if you promise not to go near her."

"Eh…okay."

"Seriously, Theo. Trust me. Don't get near her," Parkinson repeated and left.

Daphne stepped out of the shadow, arms crossed, the hazel lost among the darkness in her eyes.

"I saw my father." Theo dragged his hand down his face. "Daphne, it's my fault. I'm so sorry."

"How is it your fault?" Her voice was small. Hollow.

"My father has been trying to persuade me to take the Mark for years. If wasn't likely to kill me outright, he'd have forced it on me already," he said bitterly.

"My parents agreed to this, too. They were there." She huffed her own bitter laugh. "It's simple, really. They want me to marry a Death Eater, and your father wants you to become one."

Theo moved toward her; Daphne stepped back, colliding into Draco's steamer trunk.

"You don't understand," she said.

"I do."

"No, you don't." She rounded her shoulders as if she wanted to fold in on herself. "He spelled me. The first wizard that touches me with intent will be immediately branded with the Mark. _Any_ wizard, Theo. Not just you. I can't touch anyone. And I won't. Ever."

So the bloody son-of-a-bitch hadn't revealed everything.

Memories of the years since his mother died flooded him: his childhood without the comfort of ever holding someone's hand.

Without a kiss pressed to flesh after a scraped knee.

Without a hand clasped to a shoulder in encouragement; without a hug before being sent to bed.

Until Daphne, Theo had lived in a world without comfort, and the Dark Lord—in agreement with his father and her parents—had just sentenced Daphne to that same life.

To isolation.

To the loneliest life he could imagine.

… _you must never let anyone mark the inside of your left arm…promise me, Theo…_

He shouldn't touch Daphne.

He _shouldn't_.

But, Merlin, what was he without her, besides empty?

And what would she become without someone to hold her?

He would never condemn her to such a fate.

Never.

"We made a vow to each other. _I_ made a vow," he said.

"It wasn't binding magic," she whispered, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor between them. "But this is." She gestured to herself half-heartedly.

… _promise me, Theo…_

"Daphne."

Theo took a half step toward her.

"I need…I have to…I'll die if I can't touch you ever again. And so will you."

Daphne flinched.

"I've seen him, Theo. He did this to me. The Dark Lord is…" She shuddered, but seemed to gather her courage to argue. "I won't let you."

He took another half-step.

"Don't, Theo."

And another.

"No, Theo. Please…"

A solitary tear slipped out of her eye, meandering down her skin and beckoning him until he had no choice but to reach out to comfort her.

… _I do avow…_

He had to.

Theo cupped her face in his hand and wiped the tear away with his thumb.

And as he pulled her into a gentle kiss, he felt his left arm start to burn.


End file.
